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   Wednesday, October 13, 2004  

Simba-lism and Insanity

I cried myself to sleep last night, wrapped tightly in my husband's arms. My period started right before bed.

I had fitful dreams. Dreams that I don't even understand the implications of. Lately, I've had dreams of being attacked by tigers. The so-called "big cats" have been prominant in my dreams for the past month. Last night was no exception.

I dreamed that my husband and I lived in my parents house. And my husband was some kind of Siegfried (possibly Roy, though entirely un-gay). He took me into the family room where all the cats (and also some bears, but little bears) were penned in...by a baby gate. A baby gate that they didn't realize they could knock over simply by breathing on it. A lioness was pregnant. So was a calico house cat. They were both in labor and my thoughtful husband felt that I should "experience" this. The house cat crawled onto my back as I lay beside the lioness, coated in their mixed blood, with more coming at each contraction. (Note I have limited knowledge of animal birthings, so this is sort of my own twisted version). The male lion kept circling this platform we were on. I was terrified, begging to leave. I just wanted to go on the other side of the baby gate. So, my husband opened it and the rest of the house quickly became filled with lions, tigers, leopards, bears and cougars. I was so scared. I tried to go (slowly, because everyone knows when you run, the big cats [and also bears] attack) to my childhood bedroom but this super-hairy cat that looked bob-catish (but with a LONG fluffy tail) was pacing in front of that door. So I got on the kitchen table and pulled blankets over my head. I didn't question the presence of blankets on the table. It only occurs to me now that this was odd. My husband attended the delivery of the lioness. Then he came in and I was crying with lions circling me. He magically got the lions, the few small bears, and the rest of the cats into the family room and penned them in with the baby gate. Then he went in the bathroom to pee. He left the door open and I was somehow in my current bedroom hiding under my covers saying "it smells like skunk in here, was there a skunk?" He told me the smell was the big pile of lion poop on the bathroom floor. I said "Oh," and turned my head. There, crouched beside my nightstand was a lioness, licking its lips and looking at me.

At this point, it was 6:30 and my alarm woke me to take my temperature. My husband was in the bathroom shaving. I ran out of our room, crying, shaking, putting my fingers in my mouth the way small children do when they are scared. I told him my dream and he laughed. He referred to our Siamese cats as "simbas." I screamed and cried and shook. I finally said that I knew there were no lions or tigers, or even small bears in our house. But I was still scared. Terrified. Just now, the air conditioning kicked on (we're of the rare sort that leave the AC going until we need the heat. There is no "off" in our house) and I jumped. I'm still afraid. My cat bumped my desk chair and I nearly screamed.

It is at this point that I'm pretty sure I am quite insane. Maybe I'm just tired. I have a midterm at 6:30 tonight, and I'm carrying a good deal of stress. But maybe, just maybe, I should actually start considering the possibility of some form of counseling. And readers, few though you may be, please, don't tell me to do it. I'm just not ready to admit I've let it get that bad yet. Because maybe I haven't. Maybe.

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  Comments about my post, "Simba-lism and Insanity":
I'm so sorry about your BFN.

I'll still be standing here with arms extended to give you a big hug, whenever you're ready. You need to move at your own pace.

Thinking of you.


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